I tore it open eagerly, expecting that it was from Ethelwynn, announcing the hour of her arrival at Paddington.
But the message upon which my eyes fell was so astounding, so appalling, and so tragic that my heart stood still.
The few words upon the flimsy paper increased the mystery to an even more bewildering degree than before!
CHAPTER XXIII.
THE MYSTERY OF MARY.
The astounding message, despatched from Neneford and signed by Parkinson, the butler, ran as follows:—
“Regret to inform you that Mrs. Courtenay was found drowned in the river this morning. Can you come here? My mistress very anxious to see you.”
Without a moment’s delay I sent a reply in the affirmative, and, after searching in the “A.B.C.,” found that I had a train at three o’clock from King’s Cross. This I took, and after an anxious journey arrived duly at the Manor, all the blinds of which were closely drawn.